"Ah! I remember. I used to have a _tendresse_ for the _belle Therese_.
I suppose my uncle thought it might come to something. The sum is not
much; it may as well be continued. _Allons_, M. Laurent, pass on."
To tell the truth, he had begun to be afraid of M. Deshoulieres; but he
had never so much cause to be afraid as at that moment. Nevertheless
Max, still thinking of her, put a strong restraint upon himself, since
that secret of hers must be sacred from all the world. He went slowly
away from the Cygne when all his disagreeable work there was at an end.
A train was nearly due, and the country people were flocking down to the
station with empty baskets, and a merry confusion of shrill voices. It
was pretty generally known what the meeting was arranging that day: he
was not thinking about it when he found himself in the midst of a little
hubbub of congratulations and smiling faces. It was so spontaneous that
he was greatly touched; he broke away as soon as he could, but the warm
homely blessings pursued him. Just as he reached the Cathedral, he saw
Therese and Nannon going in. He followed her; she did not see him, but
they were kneeling near one another, the vast length of the Cathedral
stretched before them, with rich deep shadows. All the light came
through gorgeous panes of sapphire, ruby, orange: it was indescribably
beautiful and solemn. As she carried back her chair she saw him, and
they went out together. The old women sitting in the porch and selling
_brioche_ cakes, all knew of what was going on at the Prefecture, and
stopped their knitting to nod and smile. Max, who only thought of
Therese, looked at her sad face with an infinite pity in his heart.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I do not know," she said, wearily. "The funeral has been to-day, and
poor madame cannot bear to see me. I came out because I thought she
wished me away."
"If mademoiselle stays in that miserable house she will die," said
Nannon, bluntly.
"Come this way," he said.
He led her down through the little narrow street to the Place where his
own house was. Except a few _bonnet_ with their charges, the little
space under the trees was deserted. They sat down together on one of
the green seats, and Nannon chatted with a little fat girl and her
nurse, who were solemnly throwing a ball backward and forward with
profound interest in their faces. Max was not quite clear how to begin,
when Therese forestalled him.
"I cannot bear to think of what you have endured for us," she said
gently. "You have been so kind a friend, and this must seem like such
terrible ingratitude! I could not understand it all--so much has come
at the same time,"--she said, with a little trembling hesitation in her
voice which made him long to break out into passionate pleading. But he
answered her very quietly.
"You need not think about it any more. Such a mistake could only be
troublesome for a day or two. And when M. Moreau made his will, his
choice of me as a trustee was sufficiently unaccountable to set tongues
wagging. The very fact of my being his medical attendant then prevented
any possibility of my benefiting under his will, as we all knew; but I
suppose there are always people who think that money sticks in the
fingering."